


Love Me Do

by sleeptalkingjr



Series: Hades [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Crushes, HERE'S YOUR PART 2 FOLKITOS PLEASE ENJOY, Kissing, Love, M/M, Memories, Plot Twists, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, although i bet y'all saw this coming, but it ain't that serious... i think, childhood crush, failing school, hongbin's mum and sisters appear sometimes, i literally have no clue how to tag, i made up quite a lot of this lol, lmfao can relate, research is overrated, tea gets spilled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 06:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeptalkingjr/pseuds/sleeptalkingjr
Summary: In which Hongbin realises he might be in love with the God of the Underworld.





	Love Me Do

**Author's Note:**

> here it is my darlings, part 2 of the Hades series, a saucy sequel!
> 
> yeah i just said that
> 
> ugh
> 
> anyway i hope you guys enjoy this because your kudos and comments and bookmarks on Fantasy made me so so happy i really am over the moon that you guys liked it and i hope you guys like reading this too
> 
> thank you all again, love ya ><

“How have you been, Hongbin?”

“You should be asking my cat that. This isn’t my appointment.”

The vet presses her pale lips together. Hongbin grunts, looking away. “Now, there’s no need to be like that. Just asking.”

“We saw each other last week. I’m the same as I was then.”

“I— Alright.” The woman shakes her head.

Taekwoon smirks, amused.

Hongbin rolls his eyes.

“Any changes in Taekwoon’s behaviour then?” the woman ploughs on. “Still no weight loss or weight gain? No—?”

“No.”

The vet’s tight smile returns. Hongbin mirrors it, just as sourly.

“You’re certain? Nothing new at all?”

“Nope.”

Hongbin wishes Hakyeon was here.

 

*

 

“She asks too many damn questions.”

Taekwoon meows in agreement.

“Exactly. Fucking old bitch. Can’t she leave us the fuck alone? God, such a fucking annoying old dumb—” Hongbin stops.

Across the road, a boy with a golden halo of hair stares at him with wide, watery eyes, bright and effervescent. He sparkles despite the ocean of darkness poured onto the streets of London; despite the murkiness of the evening gloom surrounding them.

A gust of wind distracts Hongbin for a moment, its strong breeze shaking the trees around him, trees that whistle and hum tunes of beauty and thrill. A mesmerising, enchanting melody sends Hongbin swaying, dragging him from the earth and threatening to toss him into the air, to launch him into the everlasting vastness of sky above.

To set him free like a bird.

Hongbin shakes his head. He squints and shields his eyes from the blinding shimmer about the boy-like creature.

Beside him, Taekwoon makes a strangled noise.

Hongbin looks down urgently. “Taek? You alright, Taekwoon?”

The cat pulls an odd face.

Hongbin looks up again.

The boy is gone.

 

*

 

Hakyeon didn’t bunk any classes. Hakyeon didn’t run away from home.

Hakyeon would never.

“I would never, Sir. I would never! Seriously, I wouldn’t. I don’t even have any reason to. I  _wouldn’t_. And I didn’t! I swear to you I didn’t! I don’t know!”

Hakyeon has been taken out of class. He’s yelling, almost screaming.

Hongbin’s heart pumps slowly, steadily. He inhales sharply; attempts to deliver some more oxygen to his starving, struggling lungs.

The teacher raises her voice as well. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use that tone with me, Hakyeon.”

“And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell me I was lying! I’m not! I swear I’m not—I’m  _not_ —”

 

 

_Hongbin couldn’t remember a thing. Hakyeon, an odd look on his face. Darkness._

_That was all._

_He hardly remembered what was said before he’d been plunged into oblivion. He didn’t know if he wanted to._

_He told his mother it was dehydration that had made him pass out._

_He didn’t tell her about Hakyeon._

*

“He doesn’t remember, Taek.” Hongbin shakes his head. His breathing is shallow, severe. He squeezes his eyes shut. “He looked at me like I was a stranger, Taekwoon. No—he recognised me. He did, he recognised me. It was just … He looked at me like he hadn’t spent the night—or, well, part of it—at my house. He looked at me like he hadn’t walked with me home three times. He looked at me … like…” Hongbin trails off, trying not to tear up.

Taekwoon pushes his head into Hongbin’s thigh.

Hongbin glances at him.

The jet black cat’s fur is silky and smooth. The boy reaches out to stroke it.

Taekwoon meows, satisfied.

Hongbin wants to cry.

 

*

 

“Well, I’ve just gone and fucked it all up, haven’t I?”

Hermes blinks in surprise, glancing up from his frayed copy of  _The Lightning Thief_  only to meet the God of the Underworld’s daunting gaze.

Hades shakes his head, sighing heavily.

He groans.

“What is it?” Hermes tries not to look so amused. “It’s the cute boy and his cat, isn’t it?”

Hades pulls a face. “Taekwoon’s cuter.”

“Taekwoon?” Hermes shuts the book firmly, smirking. “You mean Zeus?”

His visitor pauses for a moment, frowning, palpably perplexed.

And then he groans again.

“Fuck’s  _sake_.”

Hermes’ smirk broadens. “Cursing in front of a young ’un like me? You should be ashamed,” he hums.

Hades narrows his eyes.

He clicks his fingers.

Hermes’ head jerks backwards.

“ _Ow!_ Ow, man, not cool, what the fuck?”

“Just because you died young doesn’t mean you  _are_  young,  _Sanghyuk_ ,” Hades snaps, a scowl scribbled onto his face.

Hermes scrunches up his nose.  _“Hakyeon.”_

Hades stiffens.

“A coincidence, you said? The cat thief’s crush and you before death, both named the same.”

“Yes. A coincidence.”

“Made it easier to impersonate him, did it?”

Hades glowers at Hermes, who remains cool and unruffled, despite his flickering pupils.

The God of the Underworld tries not to consider fisting his hand.

Hermes notices. “You can’t crush my skull, Hades. Hephaestus wouldn’t approve—”

“I’m not here to talk about—about  _him_ , Hermes,” Hades speaks through gritted teeth. “I’m here to ask why you haven’t been taking care the Underworld, as I requested.”

“As you  _demanded_.”

Clenching his jaw: “We had a deal.”

Hermes reclines in his chair, grinning shamelessly. “I got Dionysus to take care of it for you. No worries.”

Hades’ mouth falls open.

_“Dionysus?”_

“Yes. Dionysus. Congrats on passing your hearing test.”

“You fucking got that dumbass to take care of the Underworld? Are you out of your mind? The last time I let that idiot set foot in the Underworld he got the place stinking of grapes and leaves  _and_ he broke my CD player. And he probably got his boyfriend’s filthy dog to tag along too, you fucking—”

Hermes rolls his eyes. “Cerberus was supposed to be your dog. You refused your own birthday present.”

Hades sniffs. “I’m a cat person.”

“Because Apollo was totally supposed to know that.”

“Apollo is a dumbass.”

“You call everyone a dumbass.”

Hades shrugs, simpering.

“Well. I’m blunt like that.”

 

*

 

The teachers have stopped pestering Hakyeon about his mysterious disappearance. He fervently declares it never happened, that he doesn’t recall missing a single day of school, leading to the popular speculation that he may have suffered an accident and memory loss as a result.

“But it makes no sense. One day I just came home, and he was there, carrying on as normal, as though he hadn’t been missing for nearly a week. I screamed at him and sobbed and he didn’t understand, still doesn’t. I have no idea,” Hakyeon’s mother blubbers, tears streaming down her face which she wipes away frantically. The cameras love that; they zoom in.

Hongbin hates it.

Hongbin hates that everyone keeps shoving cameras and fingers and questions in poor Hakyeon’s face—Hakyeon who looks so incredibly flustered and frustrated.

The teachers have lost interest, but it’s only the teachers.

It isn’t enough.

“They won’t believe me,” Hongbin hears Hakyeon mutter.

His eyes widen; he whirls around.

Hakyeon’s talking to someone else, a girl Hongbin can’t remember the name of—he isn’t paying attention to Hongbin at all.

Hongbin’s cheeks flush pink; he twists back around.

Swallowing, he rests his head on the desk. Perhaps he should try and get some sleep.

 

*

 

Jaehwan’s knee hasn’t stopped bouncing up and down since the beginning of lunch. His eyes dart about frenziedly, bright and bewildered; his finger slithers onto a tooth and he clamps his mouth shut.

He winces.

Wonshik sighs.

“Shikkie?”

“Yeah?”

Jaehwan pauses; frowns; knits his eyebrows together.

“I’m thinking.”

“I can see that.”

Another pause.

“Shikkie.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not crazy, am I?”

“No, you didn’t imagine Hakyeon with us at lunch—when he was supposed to be missing.”

Jaehwan’s eyes widen; nearly explode from their sockets.  _“I knew it!”_

“You did.”

“I— But then— Then…” he trails off again, blinking in confusion.

Wonshik sighs.

_Like dealing with a kid._

He has no clue why it fills him with so much joy.

Jaehwan—squinting—scratches in his chin in thought, utilising his fork for the task.

Wonshik wonders if he knows that isn’t their actual purpose.

He decides against telling him.

“We shouldn’t tell anyone.”

“No, probably not.” Wonshik attempts to mask his surprise at Jaehwan’s capability to contribute something useful to such a grave conversation.

His insides twist—but pleasantly; with pride.

And something else.

Jaehwan shakes his head.

“I— Should we tell Bin?”

Wonshik’s lips curl.

“I—I dunno, really.”

“You don’t? Then—”

“He’ll tell us,” Wonshik interrupts, strongly. Their eyes lock; the silence in their pupils is dense, heavy, and thick. “He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

 

*

 

Hongbin inhales deeply, shutting his eyes.

_You can do this._

One step forward.

_You can do this._

Two steps closer to Hakyeon’s desk.

_You can do this._

Hakyeon’s head lifts.

_Fuck._

Hongbin stops, eyes widening.

He can’t.

Hakyeon frowns.

“Hongbin?”

_How does one breathe again?_

Hongbin blinks rapidly, expectantly, one hand extending and grasping onto a nearby desk and his fingers pressing and reddening and throbbing and his lungs, his poor lungs—starved of oxygen and tight and clenching like his stomach and pounding head and thudding heart and boiling blood—shrivel like famished balloons.

He flushes, face dipped in thick, murky scarlet; blanches like snow after dressing his face in a pale pinch of peach; and, finally, halts, catching his mulberry reflection in the dusty windowpanes at the back of the class.

He feels awful.

Hakyeon shouldn’t be making him feel this way.

“Something wrong, buddy?” Hakyeon—or someone else, he doesn’t know—asks, the faintest taste of concern barely stringing the words together, like almost invisible thread.

Hongbin’s mouth goes dry; he can’t nod, can’t shake his head.

Yes, is his answer, yes. Something  _is_ wrong.

Something is very, very wrong.

 

*

 

“Hello, Hades.”

The God of the Underworld’s head jolts upwards, his eyes—bright and glazed—scanning the room for his guest.

They land on Apollo, who looms in Hades’ doorway with a tight smile glued onto his face.

Hades cocks his brows, leaning back in his seat and stretching.

“Apollo. Hi. What a surprise.”

Apollo clenches his jaw. “The surprise is not my being here, Hades, but your being here.”

Hades blinks.

“Come again?”

“I wanted to pay you a visit: I hadn’t heard from you in a while. I wanted to see what you were up to.” Apollo folds his arms across his chest. “But guess who I found in the Underworld instead, a few days ago?”

Hades taps his chin in thought; shrugs.

Apollo groans, his frustration vivid.

“ _Dionysus_ , Hades, I saw  _Dionysus_ down there with  _your_  dog—”

“It isn’t my dog.”

Apollo stops; scowls. “Real grateful for your birthday present, aren’t you, Hades?”

Hades grins.

“Truthfully, no.”

“Why weren’t you in the Underworld?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see your boyfriend, Apollo,” Hades replies, sweet and innocent.

Apollo pauses again—blinks rapidly.

He goes bright red.

“I—”

“Didn’t you materialise on Earth a few days ago? What was that about?”

Apollo glowers: “I was suspicious. Of you, Hades,” he clarifies through gritted teeth when he spies the other’s guiltless expression. “I thought you’d be down there.”

“You did?”

“A human boy saw me.”

This time it’s Hades’ turn to freeze and blink rapidly, mouth slightly agape. When he notices Apollo’s triumphant smirk, he quickly shuts it, endeavouring to regain his composure—cocking his head to the side. “A human—boy?”

“Yes. He saw me. I materialised on Earth. He wasn’t supposed to be able to see me: I didn’t make myself Materialistic, I’m certain, because the boy shielded his eyes from my blinding rays. And yet—he was not blinded.” Apollo takes a step towards the other, eyes narrowed. “What have you done, Hades?”

It takes the God of the Underworld a few moments to conjure up a response.

“I’ve done nothing, Apollo.”

“You shouldn’t lie to me.”

“Too bad. I am.”

Apollo clenches his jaw. “So you  _have_ done something?”

Hades pauses.

Nods.

Apollo’s expression is one that combines several indecipherable emotions. All at once, he looks tormented; confused; victorious; enraged. He opens his mouth to speak—shuts it again.

Hades considers waving a hand.

“Don’t even  _think_  about slapping me, Hades. I am not the one who has caused such a mess.”

“Whatever.” Hades tears open a packet of chewing gum with his teeth; pops three squares into his mouth. “I’m fixing it.”

Apollo’s breathing is shaky. “You better be.”

He turns, marches out of the room.

As soon as he is sure that the other has left, Hades stops chewing, sinking into a thoughtful trance.

For the first time since his arrival back in Hell, he pictures the face of Hongbin Lee, bright and beautiful, and clenches his fist.

A vase of flowers—a gift from Apollo, probably—explodes.

Shards of glance dance from the sky like snowflakes, littering the floor of the Underworld.

They hug the furniture; dress the walls; wrap themselves fondly around Hades, who sighs.

He stands, picking his way through slivers of glass and venturing out of the Underworld.

Hongbin’s face is the only thing on his mind.

 

*

 

“You  _fainted_? Hongbin, baby, are you okay now? What happened?”

“I don’t know, Ma,” Hongbin groans, face beetroot red with shame and humiliation and anger and confusion. He stares at his mother through bleary eyes, threading a hand through his hair and exhaling heavily.

His mother’s face softens, like warm, melting chocolate. “God, Hongbin, you look awful. Have you had enough water? Did you eat?”

“I  _did_ , Ma, I did, I promise. I’m okay, I’m fine. I’ll be—”

“You’re not fine,” Hongbin’s mother snaps. She shoots Taekwoon a frustrated glance, noticing him pawing at her leg. “And he’s acting weird, too? For God’s sake—”

“Ma, please,” Hongbin pleads. “Don’t stress about it. It’s nothing. I promise everything’s alright. You need to go back to work.”

“To hell with work—”

Hongbin doesn’t know why he winces.

“—I need to make sure you’re alright.” She shakes her head, sighing. Then she stops; shoots her son an accusatory glance. “Hongbin,” she starts, squinting, “did you stay up on your console again? Last night? And keep Taekwoon awake too?”

Hongbin blinks rapidly, perplexed.

He frowns.

His mouth opens; then, swiftly, slams itself shut.

The laugh he forces out is knotted and gnarled. “O-oh! Oh, that must have been it. Sorry, Ma. I told you I’m—”

 _“Hongbin!”_  his mother shrieks; her son jumps, startled. “I ran out of work and got worried  _sick_  and now you tell me you collapsed because you stayed up all night on your bloody  _console_?”

Hongbin cringes.

“Uh. Um. S-sorry?”

“For  _God’s_ sake, Hongbin Lee!” his mother bellows, shaking her head and seizing her handbag from the sofa. She sizzles noisily like a furious fire, cursing and crackling. “God, what will I do with you, Hongbin Lee?” she puffs, glaring at him—shooting daggers at Taekwoon, also—before exiting and slamming the front door behind her.

Hongbin watches her storm down the road from the window, heart thudding in his chest. He sighs deeply with relief when she disappears, sinking back into the sofa and burying his face in the pillows.

Taekwoon glances up at him; meows.

They narrow their eyes at each other.

“I’m not telling her,” Hongbin clarifies.

Taekwoon is clearly unimpressed. He opens his mouth, readying himself to reprimand his owner—but the abrupt clamour of the doorbell promptly stops him. He leaps into the air, screeching; eyes bulging, he hisses at the door.

Hongbin stares in the same direction, brows furrowed.

He staggers to his feet and slinks towards the door.

 

 

_“You’re gonna ace this test, Bin.”_

_Hongbin snorted. “Thanks. I won’t, though.”_

_Hakyeon grinned. As per usual, it was a dazzling smile that set his entire face alight, forcing Hongbin to blink rapidly in shock. He dismissed the urge to shield his eyes from his friend’s blinding aura, twisting away._

_He focused his attention again on his pizza._

_“Chem is annoying, anyway,” Hakyeon pressed on. “You’re probably great at your other subjects.”_

_Hongbin shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, my subjects are pretty boring. Computer Science, Politics—they suck.”_

_Hakyeon’s face contorted. “Oh, holy fuck. They really do.”_

_Hongbin guffawed._

_“I mean, I thought you would be a—um, Graphics sort of guy?”_

_Hongbin shot Hakyeon an inquisitive glance. “Graphics?”_

_“Mhm. You like games, don’t you?” He gestured to Hongbin’s console._

_Hongbin shook his head. “Hakyeon, you’re clueless.”_

_“I’m not clueless. I know you’d like it.”_

And I like you.

_The thought was abrupt, and made no sense—it had flown into Hongbin’s conscious out of nowhere, almost knocking him out. Dazed, he grabbed another slice of pizza from his plate and chewed loudly, attempting to drown out the noise, bending his head—mortified._

_With his free hand, he patted one crimson, bruised cheek._

_“You go red so easily, Hongbin Lee,” Hakyeon shook his head, face glowing as the other hid his own in shame. “Mm. It’s so cute.”_

_Hongbin nearly spat out his food._

_If he was red before, he was on fire now._

_He ogled the other; startled, speechless, stunned._

_Hakyeon smirked, chewing on his pizza smugly._

_Hongbin’s insides screamed._

*

 

The report stinks. A pungent stench clings to the paper as though it were its clingy boyfriend—possessive, protective, touchy. Wonshik would know all about that.

And now he knows another thing.

That he’s fucking failing college.

Honestly, he saw it coming long ago. Really, he had. He noticed it a while ago—noticed how lessons had begun to slow down, to vanish from his brain; noticed how words slid into his ear for a brief visit before zooming out again, never giving him a chance to process anything; noticed how he was starting to feel detached and alone and how he didn’t want to talk or listen or learn or—or anything, anything at all.

These thoughts scare him, and yet he doesn’t feel at all afraid.

He tosses the report into the bin, rubbing his face in frustration. He stares at the door; groans.

Before he can change his mind, he’s pulled his biggest hoodie over his head and is heading over to Sanghyuk’s place down the road.

 

*

 

Hakyeon grabs Hongbin by the shoulders, yanking him towards him and bringing their faces together close—so close—their faces, their noses, their  _lips_.

Practically touching.

 _Are_ touching.

Hongbin gasps into the kiss.

Hakyeon pays no heed to the other’s shock, to the fact they haven’t spoken in a week, to the suddenness of this all—only threads his hands through Hongbin’s hair, tugging at the curls, digging his fingers in deep, deep, deep, deep into the other’s hair.

Hongbin’s dizziness from the morning returns, drenching his body like a beach soaked in sea.

He breathes in deeply, inhaling the other’s scent, drowning in salt and water and lips and lust.

_No fucking way._

“Hakyeon,” he whispers, realising how crazy this is, how  _insane_  this is, how Hakyeon has just shown up out of nowhere (like he always does) and mushed their lips together (like he’s  _never_  done, what the  _fuck_  is he doing?) and how Taekwoon has been watching them this whole time, eyes wide and face contorted in either shock, disgust, confusion, amusement or all of the above.

Hakyeon steps back, slowly.

Hongbin nearly topples forward.

“Fuck,” Hakyeon grins. “You’re so adorable, Hongbin Lee, you know that? I really should kiss you more often.”

He smiles, tilts his head to one side and winks.

Hongbin stares at him, breathless; light-headed; incredulous.

 _Please,_ he begs silently.  _Please do._

 

*

 

“Wonshik! Buddy! Hey, man, how you been? Shit, dude, it’s been a while since we last—”

Wonshik smiles tightly, rubbing his clammy palms together.

Sanghyuk stops; notices.

He cocks a brow.

“Ah. I—I see.”

“Please, man. You got any? I—God, I—”

“Chill, chill. It’s alright. No biggie, dude. Wanna chat for a bit, first, though? Damn, I’ve missed you—”

“No.” Wonshik grits his teeth; tries to get his breath back. “Sorry, I—I need to get home and—fuck, I’m not doing good. I need it, man. I’m fucking—I’m fucking  _dying_.”

Sanghyuk blinks—rapidly at first, then a little more slowly. He strokes his chin with his finger and drags his eyes up and down Wonshik’s cowered, shivering body for a few seconds that feel more like minutes, hours, days. “Alright. Came prepared?”

Wonshik slaps a wad of cash onto the table between them.

Sanghyuk’s eyes bulge. “That’s—fuck, that’s a lot, dude. You sure you wanna—? I mean, it’s been so long—”

“Please,” Wonshik murmurs, nodding his head aggressively. “I need it—so bad.”

Sanghyuk pauses again.

“Please,” Wonshik says again.

Sanghyuk purses his lips, giving his old friend one final, sympathetic look.

And then the exchange is over.

 

*

 

“My mum thinks I’ve got, like, anaemia or something. Because I, uh, passed out, twice.” Hongbin hesitates, raising his head slowly to meet the other’s intent gaze. “You were … there with me—both times,” he continues, wringing his hands together. “The first time, only you.”

Hakyeon’s eyes dim. It lasts barely half a second.

But Hongbin notices.

Easily.

“Taekwoon was there too, actually,” Hakyeon points out, a strain evident in his light-hearted tone.

Hongbin narrows his eyes.

Hakyeon sighs.

“Bean.” His tone is different. Murky, chilly water trickles down Hongbin’s skin: he shudders.

“Listen, I—I’ve been starting to remember things. Things that,” Hakyeon adds, “I’ve been struggling to remember for a while.”

Hongbin blinks.

“You what?”

“They’re really blurry, the memories. But I can see—like, snapshots. In my mind. I can see us walking home, walking home from school together—that’s the first thing I remembered.” He grins.

Hongbin’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Then I saw popcorn. Quite burnt, they were—probably your fault.”

Hongbin cracks a smile.

“Yeah. Sure. My fault.”

“Chemistry. Colours. Glucose.” He pauses. “And … not much after that. I can remember your friends, I think. But other than that—” He winces, clutching his head in his hands.

Hongbin’s eyes widen. He panics. “Hakyeon—Hakyeon, it’s—fine.” Hakyeon looks up at him, blinking. Hongbin smiles shyly, tugging at his own sleeves and clearing his throat. “You don’t have to try remembering anything else.”

“No, but—I remember—I remember what happened, Hongbin.” He grimaces.

“Hakyeon—”

“I remember, I remember you were so tired after all that work I made you do—”

Hongbin frowns. “I, what? But I—”

 _But I was, I was tired,_ a voice in Hongbin’s mind whispers urgently, swift and smooth like rushing, gushing water.

“—and I remember seeing you drop to the ground and saw you’d fallen asleep—”

 _I did, I did fall asleep,_ the voice persists, a voice so strange and yet so familiar, and so slithery and slippery—like a snake soaked in honey.

_I did, I did, I did fall asleep and I had a dream, a dream with a clock and a cat and a boy and the cold and the dark and hands on my throat, but a dream, just a dream, strangled, strangling, hands on throat, dream, trying to breathe, dream, MURDERING ME, dream, dream it was all just a dream, all a dream, tick, tick, clock, hands, a dream, just a dream, dreaming, dream, Hades, DREAM, dream, JUST A DREAM, all JUST a dream, I’m TELLING YOU IT WAS JUST A DREAM WHY WON’T YOU BELIEVE ME IT WAS JUST A DREAM DREAM JUST A DREAM WHY WON’T YOU BELIEVEME LISTENTOME ALLJUSTADREAMDREAMDREAMDREAM—_

_“Fuck off!”_

Suddenly something shatters in Hongbin’s brain, like an enormous explosion of glass.

Hakyeon yelps, surging backwards.

Hongbin freezes, panting hard. He covers his face, trying not to throw up, averting his gaze and ignoring the roar of his heartbeat.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Hakyeon speaks: “Binnie? Are—are you alright?”

“I’m—I’m fine.” Hongbin winces, rubbing his head with his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m—” He swallows. “—fine.”

“Are you sure? Do you need—”

_“No.”_

This time it’s both boys who wince.

“God—fuck.” Hongbin shakes his head. “Sorry, I— Just—tell me what happened after that. If you—I mean, if it isn’t—”

“It’s okay, Hongbin,” Hakyeon smiles, resting his hand on the other’s thigh—yet Hongbin fails to feel warmth from his tender, tentative touch.

The boy stares back, expression blank and empty.

No voice whispers or simpers in his brain.

No sound drifts through the room—bar the gentle, eerie ticking of a small and dusty clock nearby.

 

*

 

Before Hakyeon can leave, Hongbin lurches forwards and grabs his wrist.

Startled, the boy stares at him.

Hongbin clears his throat. “I just—I wanted to say—”

“Binnie.” Hakyeon’s smile is faint. “I’m okay now. I promise.”

Hongbin pauses; sighs; nods.

Hakyeon is still smiling. He steps forward and kisses Hongbin, who kisses back without hesitation, but struggles to feel delirious again, struggles to step back into the sea he’d been drowning in, struggles to submerge himself in lust and love.

By the time Hakyeon has left, the only thing on Hongbin’s tongue is a smack of nausea, which he quickly gets rid of, curled up in his bathroom with his snot and his vomit and his troubled cat as his only company as he bawls and aches.

 

*

 

“Hongbin looked upset this morning. I hope he’s okay. Do you think he’s alright, Shikkie?”

Wonshik grunts. He yanks another biscuit from the packet wedged in his pocket—the third packet Jaehwan has spotted today—and forces it into his mouth, eyes red and drooping, mouth twisted into a grumpy, grouchy frown.

Jaehwan cocks a brow. “Damn,” he remarks dryly, scrutinising the state of his friend. “Even you look like shit.”

Wonshik stops chewing; raises his head.

He snorts.

Jaehwan grins. Resting his soft, bronze halo on the bench, he reaches out with his hand, sliding it across the wood and inviting Wonshik to stare at it with his crimson, beady eyes—as though it were a weapon: his kind and soft and beautiful hand, his large and gentle and gorgeous hand; his hand that threatens to arrive at the other end of the bench and slip into the other’s.

Wonshik’s eyes bulge.

He springs to his feet.

“I have to go.”

Jaehwan frowns, plucking his head from the bench and whining. “Already?” he complains, almost wails, kicking his feet against the bench’s stomach. “Don’t you wanna spend some more time with me?” He flashes his signature glistening smile at the other, who openly admires the white pearls sitting proudly atop Jaehwan’s gums.

Embarrassed and reluctant, Wonshik flushes, turning away.

He does want to spend some more time with Jaehwan.

He does.

“I—really have to go, Jae,” he struggles, hauling the strap of his bag onto one shoulder and limping away with his head ducked in shame. “Sorry,” he mumbles to his feet, wincing.

Mentally, he punches himself.

The impact nearly sends him reeling.

 

*

 

Several days after his first visit, Apollo is back in the Underworld.

He isn’t at all surprised to find Dionysus there instead.

“Oh, hey, man! Fancy seeing you h—”

“Cut to the crap, Dionysus,” Apollo rolls his eyes, hoping the other God doesn’t notice the crimson colouring his cheeks. “Hades asked you to cover for him, didn’t he?”

“Hades—what?” Dionysus frowns, shaking his head. “No, it was Hermes who did.”

It takes Apollo a few moments to register the other’s response.

“Oh. Hermes.” He nods, slowly; shakes his head in knowing disbelief. “Of course.”

It doesn’t surprise him that Dionysus doesn’t realise how bizarre being asked to take care of a different God’s territory is; and it doesn’t surprise him that the fool had accepted the offer again.

It also doesn’t surprise him to find out Hermes has known about Hades’ antics this entire time.

And has even been assisting him.

 

*

 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I need to find Hermes.”

“You what?” Dionysus’ eyes widen, eyelids fluttering like a frantic butterfly’s wings. “Is— Is he in trouble?”

Apollo suppresses a laugh. His companion is, without a doubt, no smarter than the dumbest child on Earth.

And he has no idea why that amuses him.

“I need to ask him about—a few things.”

“Oh, I see. Can I come?”

Apollo raises his eyebrows; Dionysus merely grins. The grin is blinding and spectacular, and succeeds in twisting Apollo’s insides. Flushing, he averts his gaze.

“You should be taking care of the Underworld. What Hermes paid you to do.”

“Hermes didn’t pay me anything.”

 _No, of course not._ Apollo sighs. “You’re crazy, Dionysus,” he shakes his head, incredulous. “You know that?”

Dionysus—proud as ever—extends his blissful beam.

“Of course,” he answers without missing a beat, nodding eagerly. “It’s my best trait.”

Apollo doesn’t know why he agrees.

 

*

 

“So, have you, like—told anyone? About, you know, uh…”

Hongbin trails off pathetically, face drenching itself in a thick coat of crimson as Hakyeon’s pupils—dark and dim—meet his idly. He switches off the TV and tosses the remote near Taekwoon, who hisses in surprise. Then, paying no heed to his favourite cat’s distaste, Hakyeon crawls on all fours towards Hongbin on the sofa, sliding himself into his lap, and straddling him.

Hongbin’s eyes bulge until they burst.

“You really can’t stop thinking about it, huh?” Hakyeon chuckles humourlessly, a sly and sultry smile stretching onto his face, hands slithering up the other’s abdomen—and then his chest.

Hongbin squeezes his eyes shut, breathing laboured, mind suffocated with smoke. “It—must’ve been awful, Hakyeon.” He winces, almost whines, trembling beneath the other boy’s weight and struggling to ignore his eager heartbeat.

The light goes out in Hakyeon’s eyes.

“But it doesn’t matter now,” he whispers, before slamming their lips together. Hongbin’s hands dart forwards, grabbing at the other’s collar and pulling him closer, opening his mouth and straining to get the taste of him embedded into his tongue. Hakyeon smirks, lips caressing the other’s tenderly, gently, but Hongbin wants more—Hongbin  _needs_  more—and then Hakyeon pulls away.

Hongbin stares for a few moments, stunned, startled; struck by this sudden silence and the unfriendly kiss of the cold on his lips.

Hakyeon’s eyes are dark and dim, but there is something inside his pupils, something that winks at Hongbin and flickers like the flames of a ferocious fire. Something deep and vast, like the ocean.

Something ravenous.

Hakyeon shoves Hongbin into the sofa and dives forwards, crashing their lips together and kissing Hongbin with enough force he sinks, writhing beneath the other and squeaking with fear and surprise and  _joy_. He immerses himself in the other’s grasp like seawater soaking the shore, sinks and plummets and drowns to the depths of the ocean until he tastes, sees, hears, feels nothing but Hakyeon, Hakyeon all over his skin, all over his tongue, all over  _him_ , every inch of his body, every crevice and every muscle and every centimetre, nothing but Hakyeon, Hakyeon, Hakyeon: everywhere.

Hongbin rips himself free, heart booming—gasping for air. Sitting up, he pants, sweat running down his face and spine; he’s drenched.

Quite, embarrassingly, literally.

Hakyeon grins. He pushes back his hair, which glistens, also visibly wet, and Hongbin wonders if he too looks like he’s taken a dip into the Pacific.

Slowly, their eyes lock.

Hongbin licks his lips, veins pulsing and throbbing and hissing, and pupils dilating, darkening; he mirrors Hakyeon’s impish, eager smile.

Breathing shallow, he leans forwards, eyelids fluttering close, lips puckering and desperate to meet Hakyeon’s once more.

But Hakyeon laughs before they can, and puts a finger to Hongbin’s lips instead.

The boy’s eyes snap open.

He laughs, mortified.

His cheeks paint themselves scarlet.

Hakyeon’s finger trails down Hongbin’s chin. It slides down his neck; stops at the collar of Hongbin’s shirt. Hakyeon raises his eyes to meet Hongbin’s wide ones.

He cocks a brow.

Hongbin swallows; winces.

His heart thrashes about in his throat.

 

 

_“Like what you see, Hongbin Lee?”_

_Hongbin rolled his eyes. Hakyeon smirked. He straightened his back, drying one of his hands; paused; and sprayed Hongbin with the hand he hadn’t dried._

_Hongbin squealed. His cheeks tinged, dressing themselves in a faint, feeble pink, and he leaned forwards to turn on the tap and scoop up his own pool of water to retaliate._

_But as he dived forwards and aimed for the sink, Hakyeon stopped him in his tracks: pressing a tiny, tender, timid kiss to his rosy cheek._

_Hongbin faltered._

_His head snapped to the side, eyes fluttering wide open, jaw unhinged and nestled on the floor._

_Hakyeon smiled, guiltless._

_He tore his eyes away. “Now, if you’ve finished staring at my fine arse,” he sang, with a wink, “I think you’d better get on with the washing-up. I need to look over your notes again.”_

_Hongbin groaned, but still, as always, complied._

_His cheek wouldn’t stop tingling, as though it’d been kissed by a flame._

 

*

 

Eventually, Hongbin gives in.

His T-shirt falls, landing near Taekwoon in a crumpled, neglected heap, which earns itself a pitiful stare.

Despite Hongbin’s compliance, Hakyeon still doesn’t kiss back. Instead, he extends the same finger again and lets it continue its journey down Hongbin’s bare chest, a wide, chilling grin setting his entire face ablaze. His eyes sizzle like a pair of searing coals as his finger arrives at the boy’s exposed stomach, then comes to a stop again.

This time, where Hongbin desperately, desperately hoped it wouldn’t—yet knew it would.

The boy whines—driven not by the slightest margin of lust this time, but only sheer, pure terror that yanks tears from his eyes and dries his throat. He backs away from Hakyeon, bringing his knees up to his chest and feeling suddenly very, very, very naked.

Too naked.

He hates it.

He shakes his head; covers his face.

Tears scurry down his hot, hurting cheeks.

He wants to stop.

Hakyeon notices.

He bites his lip.

 

*

 

“Remind me again why I’m here?”

Jaehwan pouts; hits Wonshik’s shoulder lightly with his booklet. “You silly, you’re supposed to be keeping me company. All you’ve been doing is  _complain_.” He huffs. Wonshik watches his eyes soften, and melt, like chocolate in the Sun. Wonshik sighs. Jaehwan perseveres.

“Whiny, whiny boyfriend. Isn’t that my job?”

“Was that supposed to be sexual?”

“Yes. And no.” Jaehwan rolls his eyes. “That’s all that interests you lately, huh, Shik? Drugs and sex?”

Wonshik stiffens.

He tries to breathe.

“I—uh—what?” He blinks rapidly, stunned.

Jaehwan shakes his head. “All. That. Interests. You,” Jaehwan repeats, agonisingly, obviously exasperated and furious and thus deciding to make Wonshik exasperated and furious as well. “Is.  _Sex._ ”

 _Sex,_ Wonshik echoes silently.

_Sex._

_That’s it._

His body slackens.

He relaxes.

“God, what’s with you, Shikkie?” Jaehwan hits him with the booklet again—this time, a little harder.

“ _Ow!_  Fuck, that hurt.” Wonshik rubs his arm, recoiling slightly from his boyfriend, although he can’t go that far: They’re both perched on one stool, and if he decided to distance himself from the other, the only result would be his cheek slapping against the carpet.

He winces, again.

“You deserve it.” Jaehwan pouts. “Hey, I know this is boring, but if it makes you feel better, I made double, double sure my parents won’t be home for the night.”

“And you were just criticising my obsession with sex?”

“And so you admit!” Jaehwan exclaims, practically leaping from the stool, as though he’s just discovered something a brand-new, ingenious invention.

Wonshik yanks him down, sighing. “Whatever, Jae. Now can you chill with the Einstein persona and finish your homework already?”

Jaehwan waves the booklet in his face; naturally, Wonshik sighs.

“Greek stuff. Myth—uh—Myth—”

“Mythology.”

“Yeah, that. Stuff. Like, you know, guy with the wings on his shoes, Herpes—”

“Jesus fuck, Jae, that’s  _Hermes_ , you dimwit.”

“Right, right, messenger cloud guy, right, and, uh—guy with the weird dog with all the heads? That guy. In charge of the dead guy. That dog, damn, weird choice of pet. I like your Butt better.”

“You always confuse me when you talk about my dog.”

“Was I talking about your dog though?” Jaehwan wiggles his brows. Wonshik snorts. “Anyway, yeah. Hades, uh, he’s evil and shit, right?”

“I dunno.” Wonshik shrugs. “You know, Google exists, right?”

“Right, but Google is confusing, and I hate being confused.”

“Jaehwan,  _you_  are confusing, and  _you_  tend to confuse the hell out of people. You have no right to complain.”

Jaehwan sticks out his tongue. “Whatever. Watching  _Hercules_  made more sense to me than whatever Google told me.”

“Of course it did.”

“That dog-owner dude, I have to make notes about him.”

“Hades.”

“Yes.”

“Well, clearly, you’re gonna do a great job.”

“Aw, thanks, Shik.” Jaehwan beams widely. “Now, where was I? Oh, right, uh …  _Evil … Likes weird dogs … Villain_ …”

 

*

 

Hakyeon reaches for Hongbin’s shirt, carefully, gently, hauling it off the floor and holding it out to the weeping boy.

Hongbin notices. He lifts his head, gulping, flushing when Hakyeon silently instructs him to lift his arms.

He does.

Hakyeon dresses him. He does so in a manner that doesn’t seem imply experience with sex—but, rather, the experience of motherhood.

The thought is embarrassing, so fucking embarrassing, and yet Hongbin likes it.

He almost, almost, finds himself wanting Hakyeon to undress him. He wonders if it will feel the way being dressed by Hakyeon felt, but also the way kissing him feels. Lustful and gentle; dangerous and safe; spicy and sweet.

Such opposites—it excites him. Hakyeon excites him.

Quiet one moment; loud the next.

Graceful and gentle; bossy and boastful.

A soft, shy breeze; a turbulent, roaring thunderstorm.

Hakyeon excites him, perplexes him, everything in between.

Such opposites—it is as though Hakyeon is two different people.

 

*

 

The penultimate kiss Jaehwan places on Wonshik’s drooping eyelid—soft, sweet, serene. He draws away carefully, breathing slow, then wriggles a bit so he can place his final kiss on Wonshik’s lips.

He smiles against them; giggles.

Wonshik doesn’t know why he can’t do the same.

“You’re getting old,” Jaehwan tuts, wrapping his arms around the other’s broad figure and nestling his head on his chest.

Wonshik sighs. “You’re older than me, Jae.”

“And even if I was—”

“You are.”

“—I can still manage only a little bit of—”

Wonshik flicks his boyfriend’s forehead.

He smirks as Jaehwan squawks.

“You talk too much.”

“You like it.”

Wonshik rolls his eyes. Then he winces. His thoughts are loud, so loud, too loud—it’s unbearable. He can’t go on, can’t keep ignoring them. The voice of truth, the knowing voice, shrieks in his ear, yanks at it and bites at it and shakes him. Shakes the truth out of him.

_If only._

“Jae?” Wonshik croaks. His boyfriend hums, letting Wonshik know he’s heard. Wonshik inhales sharply, closing his eyes for a moment. “Jae, is—hiding things … always necessarily a bad thing?”

Jaehwan frowns. He sits up in bed, peeling himself off the other’s toned stomach, touching his lips gingerly with one finger as he ponders.

Wonshik watches, aching.

_It’s too late to take it back._

“What do you mean, Shikkie?”

“I mean—we’re—” He gesticulates widely. “—hiding—this. From our friends.” He grimaces. “Is … hiding things from friends … always a bad thing?”

Jaehwan hesitates again, appearing more puzzled than ever. Still, he responds, slowly, carefully: “Well, this is our business, Shik. It’s personal. We can wait until we’re ready to tell people about it. Is that what you’re trying to say? You want—”

“No,” Wonshik interrupts, a little too curtly.

Jaehwan blinks.

Wonshik stops; sighs.

“Sorry. It’s—fine.”

“Are you sure, Shikkie?”

“Yeah,” Wonshik replies vacantly. “Yes. Sure.”

 

*

 

It’s been a week since Hakyeon showed up at Hongbin’s door with his memory partially “restored”.

And it’s been two days since Hongbin confessed to Hakyeon about his … status of virginity.

_How fucking humiliating._

“You could’ve told me, Bean,” Hakyeon had said, gently, when Hongbin had told him, forcing the other to avert his gaze.

“But I didn’t know you were planning on having sex!” he’d exploded, flushing everywhere, mortified.

Hakyeon laughed then, gloriously; Hongbin really regretted not unbuttoning his jeans.

He regrets it now, still.

Perhaps even more.

 

*

 

Taekwoon is acting up.

Hongbin scoops him up in his arms. “What’s wrong, Taek?” he coos.

Taekwoon twists his head away.

Hongbin sighs. “Such an attention-seeker, you are,” he shakes his head at his cat, who mentally sticks out his tongue.

Hongbin laughs.

Then he remembers half-term is over.

His stomach turns.

 

*

 

Hakyeon doesn’t talk to him.

 _Back to square one?_ Hongbin wonders, perplexed and infuriated, watching as Hakyeon beams at some dull bland girl in Chem and doesn’t send Hongbin even the briefest of glances, acting as though he hadn’t totally been trying to get his trousers off two days ago, and acting as though he hasn’t gotten any of his memory back at all.

Which, Hongbin starts to consider, might be true. It’s insane, incredible, how Hakyeon can just—switch back like that. It can’t be an act.

Can it?

_Of course it can. He’s just pretending, Hongbin, he’s pretending to like you. He didn’t like your kissing skills. He didn’t even like the fact you’re a virgin._

Hongbin’s stomach churns.

_Face it, Hongbin. You’re a loser. And Hakyeon’s never been interested in you. You think it’s “insane” that he keeps choosing when and when not to remember stuff? What’s really insane, Hongbin Lee, is the fact that he came up to you out of nowhere and barely a month later you’re planning on sleeping with each other._

_Shut up,_ Hongbin growls.

You’re _the insane one, Hongbin Lee, for believing him! He’s a liar, and you have to get over him, next time he tries something you need to tell him no and you need to stop this, Hongbin, you need to stop this, because Hakyeon doesn’t like you, Hakyeon doesn’t like, Hakyeon’s never liked you Hakyeon_

 

*

 

“What the  _fuck_  are you doing?”

Apollo smiles. Slowly, he turns on his heel, raising his stony eyes to the God of the Underworld’s blazing ones.

Hades takes a step forward.

“You said you would fix things.”

“I  _am_ —”

“You’re in love with him.”

Hades stops in his tracks. He stares, expression seething and terrified and mortified and baffled, shaking all over.

Apollo narrows his eyes.

“You’re in  _love_ with him, Hades.”

“Don’t try and get into his head again.”

“Hades—”

“I said,  _don’t_.”

One second Apollo is on his feet and reaching to stop Hades.

The next he’s been flung to the ground.

 

*

 

Suddenly Hakyeon’s eyes leave the girl’s face; dart to Hongbin’s instead.

Hongbin’s eyes widen.

His stomach curls.

Hakyeon marches towards him.

He whispers into his ear:  _“Wait for me after class.”_ He stares, intently, as though undressing Hongbin right now.

Hongbin’s heart squeezes his throat.

 

*

 

Later that night, Hongbin wonders if he is in love with Hakyeon.

The thought seems slightly ridiculous at first, and also a bit embarrassing—to say the least—but then Hongbin realises why it all seems so odd to him.

Never mind love: What  _is_  he to Hakyeon? Is he his boyfriend? Are they dating? Because it sure as fuck feels like that.

But no, it doesn’t, it doesn’t feel like that at all.

Hongbin and Hakyeon aren’t dating.

But they’re fucking, that’s for sure.

Then, what is it? What are they supposed to be? If not boyfriends, friends with benefits, perhaps? No, God no. That seems even worse.

What is he to Hakyeon? Oddly, the question chooses to take shape differently in Hongbin’s head. It comes out more like:  _What is Hakyeon?_  And the answer, really, is simple.

Hakyeon is unreal.

Hongbin laughs—croaks and wheezes. He pauses. His face darkens; his breath stills.

Taekwoon stares at him, quiet and curious.

Hongbin shakes his head.  _God, how strange this all is,_  he thinks.

_So, so fucking strange._

 

*

 

Sanghyuk is worried.

“Shik, I think we need to talk.”

“Right after—”

“No, Wonshik.” Sanghyuk narrows his eyes.

Wonshik sighs.

“You’re too involved with your customers.”

Sanghyuk’s laugh comes out like a bark—sharp, harsh, and angry. Wonshik winces. “Seriously, Shik? That’s what you fucking think of me? You think I serve you guys as customers, and that’s it? Jesus fucking Christ, Shik, that’s fucking messed up.”

“Alright. I’m sorry.”

“Shik, I don’t want to sell you anything anymore.”

Wonshik freezes.

His heartbeat judders.

He stares.

All around him is silence.

Unmoving.

Unbearable.

“Please— _no_.”

“Wonshik—”

 _“Why?”_ Wonshik chokes out, shaking his head rapidly, although both of them know exactly why.

Sanghyuk stands, making his way to the door.

Wonshik doesn’t move.

“You’re not alright, Wonshik. You need a doctor.”

“I don’t.”

“Wrong.”

“I won’t see one.”

A small, sad, solemn smile slowly stretches across Sanghyuk’s face.

He nods. “That’s right, Wonshik. You won’t. Now take care of yourself and get some help, before it’s too late. I’m doing what’s best for you, right now, and I hope you’ll do the same.”

The door swings open.

Wonshik steps outside without another word.

 

*

 

“Where’s Shik?”

Jaehwan bites his lip. His face darkens, oddly, strangely, and Hongbin feels his stomach knot and turn. It’s an unfamiliar sight, these foggy pupils on Jaehwan’s usually bright, jovial, cloudless face.

“I don’t know. I never know, these days.” Jaehwan stares at something beside his feet. His chest moves slowly. “He’s not himself.”

Silence.

Hongbin wrings his hands.

“Jae—”

“Oh! Wait, I was gonna show you.” He rummages in his bag for a bit, then leaps several feet into the air when he finally retrieves a giant poster. “Look! I finally finished my English project!” he gushes, sticking the thing in Hongbin’s face.

Hongbin squints, skimming the sheet carefully. “Greek—Gods?”

“Mhm. It was so fun to research!”

“Dude, you based this all off  _Hercules_.”

Jaehwan’s face lights up. “I did! How did you know?” he prattles.

Hongbin shakes his head. “It’s nothing to be proud of, Jae…” He sighs, incredulous, and resumes his examination of the poster. Rushed, hideous sketches of the characters of  _Hercules_ have been included, unsurprisingly, and coloured in hastily using crayons. Hongbin doesn’t know why it makes him crack a smile.

But then he finds one name scrawled onto the poster which makes his heartbeat grind to a halt.

His eyes widen.

His jaw drops.

_Hades._

_Hakyeon Lee has hair like fine silk; eyes that radiate warmth; and the feet of a ballerina. He dances on pavements as though they were a stage, as though crowds of hundreds and thousands were watching him as he soars through streets like a bird. His smile is small and shy, and sweet and sincere, and gentle and warm. He is timid and tentative; safe and sound. He is familiar and comforting._

_Hakyeon’s hair is short and thick, and black. Black like obsidian; black like coal; black like Taekwoon’s fur._

_His eyes are deep, and dark, and hollow: you could reach your hands into them and fall, fall, deep, deep into them, as though inside his irises, his pupils, was another world. Another universe, an ocean. Plunging into an ocean; venturing into a thick, thorny forest._

_Hakyeon is dangerous. Hakyeon’s smile is chilling, knowing, exciting, thrilling, beautiful, enticing, mesmerising. He himself, is: all of those things. He is incredible._

_He is unreal._

_He is another person._

 

Perhaps  _person_  isn’t the right word for it, Hongbin thinks, unlocking the door to his flat.

No, not  _person_.

 _Otherworldly being_ ,  _creature_ ,  _mystical_  …  _thing_.

No, he doesn’t want to use the word “God”.

He doesn’t want to.

Not yet.

 

*

 

Hakyeon is nestled on Hongbin’s sofa with Taekwoon in his lap, grin wide and bright and mesmerising.

Hongbin breathes in sharply.

_He couldn’t have gotten in without keys._

 

*

 

Taekwoon’s agelessness mystified Hongbin when he was first told about it. It was odd, slightly funny, crazy, insane, unbelievable, and incredible. Hongbin still doesn’t know what to think of it.

But he knows it must have something to do with this “mystical being” on his sofa; he knows it.

He’s certain.

 

 

_“What is this?”_

_Hongbin scrunched up his face. “Ma, don’t be mean. It’s a cat.”_

_“I know it’s a bloody cat, Hongbin, but what the hell is it doing in my house?”_

_The cat mewled viciously._

_His mother shrieked._

_Hongbin grabbed the cat and brought it up to his chest, whispering rushed words of comfort._

_The cat quietened down._

_“If you think I’m letting that thing stay here—”_

_“Ma! Please—”_

_Hongbin’s sisters tumbled into the room._

_It was almost immediately apparent that both had fallen in love with the cat, and they each took turns to coo at it whilst it buried its head and meowed stiffly into Hongbin’s chest._

_The boy was beyond pleased at its clear signals of favouritism._

_“God! If any of you knew how expensive keeping a cat was,” Hongbin’s mother mumbled, but soon her daughters would be bringing in cash and she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that._

_Hongbin was thrilled._

 

*

 

“He’s so comfortable with you,” Hongbin practically whispers.

Hakyeon beams at him, clueless. “He is, isn’t he?” he agrees, proudly.

Hongbin hums tunelessly.

 

*

 

Again, Wonshik’s phone rings.

Again, the caller is Jaehwan.

Again, he silences it.

He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

And then he gets himself arrested.

 

*

 

_Why would you base your school project on a cartoon film?_

_Hey, it’s not that big of a deal. Whatever. It isn’t even real, anyway._

But it is.

It is real.

Hongbin stares at the figure on his sofa, with his cat tucked in his lap as though he’s known him for years.

And at the same time, none of this can be real.

_Don’t be silly._

Hongbin’s blood runs cold.

His eyes narrow at the voice in his mind, fingers curling into his palms, hands fisting.

He snarls.

Hakyeon continues to pet Hongbin’s cat.

“You’re a natural with Taekwoon.”

Hakyeon grins. “Jeez, jealous much, Binnie? You’ve been staring at me stroke this cutie for the past minute. Wanna sit down?”

“I’m good, thanks.” Hongbin swallows. “And I’m not jealous.”

Hakyeon snorts. “Alright. People usually expect me to be a dog person, you know. Crazy.”

Hongbin’s heartbeat stutters.

 _Crazy indeed,_ he thinks.

_Stop talking to yourself._

“Stop doing that,” Hongbin says, loudly, startling Hakyeon, who stares. The boy clenches his jaw, struggling to breathe.

Hakyeon’s gaze is cool and level. “Stop doing what?”

“You—” Hongbin shakes his head, agitated.  _“Fuck.”_

“Bean? You alright?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What—”

“How many bones in the adult human skeleton?”

Hakyeon blinks.

Hongbin breathes, slowly. He repeats his question.

After a moment’s hesitation, Hakyeon smirks. “Two-hundred and six,” he answers automatically, swift and smug.

Hongbin clenches his jaw.

“Okay. What’s the tenth largest country in the world?”

“Algeria.”

“When did Jack Ruby assassinate John F Kennedy?”

“That’s a trick question. It was Lee Harvey Oswald who killed him, on November 22, 1963. Around half past twelve.”

“Impressive.” Hongbin inhales sharply. “Who won the 2025 World Cup?”

“Mexico.”

Hongbin’s heart misses a beat.

“Hakyeon wouldn’t know that.”

The stranger blinks, confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Nobody would know that. Nobody would know who won the World Cup in 2025—because it hasn’t even happened yet.” Hongbin shakes his head, gripping onto the sofa for balance, eyes fluttering open and shut as he struggles to stay conscious; the stranger beside him watches, eerily silent. “It’s 2018,” Hongbin says hoarsely. “But you wouldn’t know that. You wouldn’t need to pay attention to that—because you’ve been fucking alive for”—he breathes in shakily— _“thousands of years.”_

The room starts spinning.

His words empty buckets of ice-cold silence onto the room, flooding it, suffocating it—suffocating  _him_.

Remaining perfectly composed, Hades is still, perched on the sofa with his eyes latched onto his shivering companion and one hand stroking his chin—Hakyeon’s chin.

His response irritates Hongbin far more than it diverts him—which, he assumes, is probably the God of the Underworld’s intention: “It’s actually been about twelve and a half billion years, if you want to be a little more accurate.”

“I don’t want to be accurate, Hades,” Hongbin says harshly, chest heaving. Saying the God’s name fills his body with dread and nausea and fear and discomfort—but also a tickling sensation, like fingers grazing and trickling down his insides, a feeling so startling and strange and exciting and erotic that Hongbin has to take a few shallow breaths in order to continue speaking. “I want to know why you possessed Hakyeon Lee. I want to know why you look so much like him. I—”

“Whenever I possess Hakyeon Lee, our features morph: I have most of his human characteristics, except Hakyeon Lee’s eyes are not black like coal, his hair is not black like ink, and his feet are not heavy and harsh.”

“He also isn’t a fucking arrogant monster,” Hongbin spits.

Hades looks startled. Then, to Hongbin’s surprise, his face contorts, and he appears enraged. “ _Arrogant?_  I’ll have you know, Hongbin Lee, that the man you fell in love with—”

“I didn’t—”

“—was  _not_  Hakyeon Lee. You’d had a crush on him for ages, sure, but you don’t love Hakyeon Lee. You don’t even know him.”

“I—”

“Hakyeon Lee is a great dancer, yes. But he’s had six girlfriends in the past and has cheated on all of them. He got this awful tattoo on his left butt cheek at fourteen in some shady basement called Voodoo just because his parents told him he wouldn’t be allowed to get one until he turned eighteen. He had an affair with  _your_ Year Nine Maths teacher and nearly got her sent to prison. The only reason he gets such high grades is because he bribes people to change his scores and he even cheats sometimes and—”

“ _Alright_ , I get it,” Hongbin cuts Hades off when he’s had enough, ears ringing, eyes stinging, head throbbing.  _Hakyeon Lee is a lie,_ he whispers to himself, disbelieving and heartbroken and shattered and overwhelmed—he can’t believe any of this. He fucking can’t believe it.

Hakyeon Lee is the Devil and the Devil is sitting right in front of him.

“Actually, I prefer—”

“Shut up,” Hongbin grumbles.

Hades purses his lips.

_Hakyeon’s lips._

Hongbin stares at them.

Whose lips had he kissed, all those times?

_Oh, fuck._

His face goes red.

_Whose…?_

Hades grimaces.

Hongbin scowls. “Stop looking into my fucking brain.”

“Sorry.”

Hongbin tries to stand.

He can’t.

He stares at his feet; wills them to move.

They stay rooted to the ground.

Hongbin glowers at Hades.

“Stop—whatever you’re doing.”

Hades shakes his head.

“No.”

Hongbin is furious.

“You  _fucking_ —”

The doorbell rings.

 

*

 

“Took you a while to get the door.”

“I wasn’t busy making out with my girlfriend, Ma.”

“Hm, I can believe that.”

Hongbin rolls his eyes. He helps his mother with the Asda bags, piling them onto the kitchen counter and beginning to sort them out. When he’s finished emptying the second bag his mother stops him.

“I got a call from the vet.”

Hongbin groans.

His mother smacks the back of his head. “Idiot! This stupid son of mine, didn’t bother tell me my fucking cat—”

_“Ma.”_

“Hongbin!” his mother erupts, throwing her hands up into the air. “Your—our—” She points a jerky finger at Taekwoon, who meows softly and licks at his fur. Hongbin’s mother pulls her son towards him, hissing her words into his ear as though hoping the cat won’t hear:  _“Our cat is immortal.”_

“Ma, I know.”

“And you didn’t—?”

“I didn’t want to worry you—”

 _“Hongbin.”_  His mother shakes her head so rapidly her son worries it will fly off. “This is  _insane_.”

Hongbin swallows.

“Yes. It is.”

 

*

 

“So … Taekwoon’s your cat?”

Hades nods, slowly. “Yes. He is.”

Hongbin pauses. He stares at his feet; kicks them about in silence.

His heart is pounding.

“What did you name him?” he asks at last.

When the God of the Underworld doesn’t respond, he shoots him a questioning glance.

Hades shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I didn’t name him. He had a name when he was given to me.”

“Which was?”

“Zeus.”

Hongbin swallows.

“Ah.”

“Mhm.”

“How did you—uh—how did he get here? From … the…”

“Underworld.”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Hades starts, awkwardly. “You’ve already discovered that I can—do quite a lot of things. I can see what people are thinking—sometimes—and put thoughts into their heads. I can crush someone’s skull without going anywhere near them. I can make them immobile. I can erase memories.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “A long time ago, I sent Hermes—uh, he’s—”

“I know who Hermes is.”

“Okay.” Again he clears his throat. “I sent him to tell you to return my cat. Basically, a while ago Taek—uh, Zeus and I were playing hide-and-seek, where Zeus hides on Earth and I try and find him. But then we, uh, we have this connection kind of thing and it—broke? And we couldn’t find him again until … well, when we found him again—”

“I had found him.” Hongbin’s breathing is heavy.

He remembers.

“You remember.”

“I do.”

Silence.

“Hongbin—”

“I don’t—” Hongbin takes in a deep breath. He tries not to cry. But he  _fucking_  wants to cry. “I hate this.”

“I know you do.”

Hongbin scowls. “Of course you fucking know.”

Hades’ smile is sombre.

Then it vanishes.

“Hongbin.”

“What?”

“There’s some—” He bites his lip. “There’s some more stuff I know. Stuff you need to know, too.”

Hongbin’s brows furrow.

“Excuse me?”

“When a God and a human fall in love—”

“I’m not—” Hongbin starts, then stops himself.

Hades stares at him.

Hongbin’s heart thrashes against his ribs.

He releases a shaky breath, feeling suddenly, excruciatingly terrified.

He does.

He does love Hades.

“When it happens, the human—well, they kind of … stop being human.”

Now it’s Hongbin’s turn to stare.

Hades twists his gaze away.

“Gods and humans having kids with each other … it’s not very uncommon. But  _loving_ each other—it’s only happened once, as far as any of us are concerned, and when it happened the woman became able to see Gods on Earth—”

Hongbin’s breathing stills.

“—and started being able to put names to faces, names she’d never heard of, faces she’d never seen. She started knowing things, seeing things,  _fore_ seeing things. Slowly, she began gaining more and more God-like characteristics, until…”

Hades trails off.

Hongbin understands.

He still hasn’t gotten his breathing back.

Hades shakes his head. “Hongbin, I’m—sorry—”

“So what is all of that supposed to, like …  _mean_ , exactly?” Hongbin interrupts, fuming, feverish, petrified.

Hades hesitates; his pupils quiver.

Then he breathes in sharply. “It means,” he croaks. “Well, it means, Hongbin, that … we have to stop seeing each other.” He meets the other’s dim eyes; bites his lip. “For a—very, very long time.”

Hongbin blinks.

He doesn’t respond.

 

 

 _Hongbin didn’t know why he couldn’t look at Hakyeon anywhere except in the eye. He was naked,_ naked _, Hakyeon was fucking naked, and for some reason, despite this beautiful boy’s perfect nakedness, Hongbin couldn’t help but stare only at his eyes. Their bodies were tangled, like the vines and thorns Hongbin tangled himself with inside the boy’s shadowy pupils. It felt so sensual, so exhilarating—just staring into those eyes. He thought he wanted to stare into those eyes forever._

_Forever._

 

*

 

“So, uh, do—” Hongbin squints, fiddling with his fingers, pursing his lips. “Can—humans … meet Gods? Like … in the afterlife?” he asks, tone far too hopeful and bright for what he expects is to come. He meets the other’s gaze, slowly, restlessly; feels his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.

“No, Hongbin,” Hades shakes his head, voice trembling: “No, they can’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> No, I have never kissed anybody, let alone ... yeah
> 
> so FUCK no i had no idea what i was writing just now and i didn’t hire any editors even though i probably should’ve.
> 
> o well.
> 
> hoped you guys didn’t cringe all that much AND ALSO DID Y’ALL SEE THAT COMIN’??? ofc y’all did i mean it was pretty obvious jae and shik were havin’ a fling and also hades blah blah
> 
> o but yeah the whole... weed thing... lol
> 
> also just to be clear, hongbin in this fic is NOT underage!! from the age of 16 you can legally consent to sex in the UK so ye ^^
> 
> aNYWAY thank u so much for reading folkitos love u lots!
> 
> follow me on twt (@sleeptalkingjr) for shitty tweets... im on hiatus anyway lol soooooo
> 
> *vanishes*


End file.
